Our Kind of Love
by SunshineShipper
Summary: She's aware that he's stopped looking toward her and suddenly he doesn't seem like the Rhys she knew months ago. The one with the trying-to-be-cooler-than-I-am attitude, a goofy smile, and slicked back hair. No, this man has power and walls built up to protect it because he knew that there are people that are willing to do whatever it takes to take it. He didn't want that, though.


"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

He shrugs and takes a sip of wine from his glass, "I never said it wasn't, but it happened."

Fiona sits on his couch in his apartment that she's in for the first time because he couldn't wait to hang out with her. She's yet to find a good reason why she agreed. Maybe because it's an excuse to stay in a cozy room and she knew that Pandora would never be able to offer that. Or maybe because she can't remember the last time she's seen him. Then again, she can't remember the last time he's pried himself away from his work. So, she just sits back and listens to him ramble on about some woman even though she just wanted the conversation to end. Another thing she couldn't find a reason for.

"I was just sitting at the bar waiting for my drink when she comes up to me and offers to pay for it. I decline of course, but we talk for a while. She recognized me for my work at Atlas, which she was impressed by.

"I'm just having a hard time believing she'd do that."

He raises an eyebrow, "Hit on me?"

"Especially you," her comment is followed by his chuckle that she knows is fake, but she has to laugh along with it.

"You might not find me attractive-"

"Gross."

"-but other women do."

The comment made her feel conflicted because she wanted to make some joke, she wanted to say no woman would ever find him attractive, but she wasn't sure about that. She takes a moment just to examine the way he's dressed, in a black tuxedo with the tie removed and thrown against his coffee table and the first two buttons undone. His hair seems more loose than it usually does, but she has to blame that on the rough day he's been telling her about. That could be the reason he invited her over. Something about that, he called her when he needed someone to chat with, made her heart skip. She ignores that feeling, "So, she offers to pay for your drink, clearly kisses your ass, and what happens next?"

"Well… she mentioned that she knew about my time on Pandora."

"Really?" it may have bothered her, she wasn't entirely sure. Some things that happened there, that was just for them. Not some woman at a bar. But Rhys just nods as if it was the usual conversation, "Anything worth mentioning?"

"Not really. Just… kissing my ass as you'd put it,"he mimics her and it ends with a grin spreading on his mouth that she rolls her eyes at.

"Did any of this lead to… you know?" as soon as she saw the way he looked at her, shocked that she'd even ask that, she regretted it, "The last thing I want to know about is your love life, but you brought this up."

"No," he quickly responds, "That will never happen."

"Never get any offers?"

"I get plenty of offers, thank you, but I never let it happen."

"And why is that?"

He swallows the rest of his drink before putting it back down, "Because I have a company now. I own Atlas. Do you know how many people would love to take advantage of that? That's why I don't let anyone get too close to me. Not anymore," he holds out his hand to her as if using her as an example, "It sucks, I know, but-"

"-It has to be done," she's aware that he's stopped looking toward her and suddenly he doesn't seem like the Rhys she knew months ago. The one with the trying-to-be-cooler-than-I-am attitude, a goofy smile, and slicked back hair. No, this man has power and walls built up to protect it because he knew that there are people that are willing to do whatever it takes to take it. He didn't want that, though, and she didn't want to be on the other side of that anymore.

"Rhys, you know, you don't have to worry about that with me," she meant it. Somewhere down the line he had become more than someone she was stuck with. He had become a friend, maybe even her best friend, but when he turns to finally look at her that look felt more than just friendly. She needed for it to stay friendly, "I'm going to think you're a jackass either way."

He's laughing out a thank you that she raises her glass to before drinking. Then, she says something she knows she shouldn't, "What about your someone else?"

She's never seen his eyes shoot open that wide before, "What?"

"I-I…" she's stammering, she never stammers, "It's been a while, but you said you were interested in someone else. It's kind of hard to like someone if you don't trust them, right? So…"

"No, I-" the look is back, it happens more than it should, and she just wants it to stop, "Trust her."

"That's good to know."

"Fi-"

She pulls herself off his couch, "Do you want some more drink? I sure do,"then she sprints to his kitchen with her glass. Narrowing her eyes on the bottle of wine, she tries to ignore his footsteps and tries to ignore how badly she wants to turn to glance at him.

"That day," his fingertips touch her hips, only for a second while he thinks if it's a good idea and he obviously does because now he's grasping her. She swears she's burning from the contact, "I thought you knew what I meant."

She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, "I knew that you didn't like my sister and I knew there was someone else you liked, but I didn't think that part mattered."

"It mattered," he quickly corrects, "To me. Fiona?"

His breath hits her hair, she couldn't think about anything else, "Yes?"

"Someone else was y-"

"Rhys," she didn't need to hear it, she already knew. Everything gave it away. The way he stares at her even though he doesn't know she always sees it. Every time he called just to say hello, but the voices in the background telling him there was no time for a phone call proved that he was busy. It all led to one thing and she never expected it from him, "I'm not good with these things."

"I didn't ask you to be. I'm just tired of hiding my feelings," his hands have moved to wrap around her stomach while his mouth was barely touching her neck. She has to shutter at the feeling.

"What are you feeling?"

He pauses, it's the longest few seconds, "I think I love you. I know I want you. I want to hear every crazy scheme that you have. I want to hear every part of your past on Pandora. I want to wake up and know I'm the luckiest man because I'm with you. God, Fiona, I think I'd give anything to just kiss you," when he buries his face in her hair and he lets out a groan, she wants to run her hands through his hair and down his chest and just keep him pressed against her, "And since you aren't pushing me away or pointing a gun at me, I have to assume you might feel the same."

"That's a high assumption," it felt like a reflex to say that, almost like she wasn't the one saying it.

"Am I wrong?" something in his voice begged for her to say he wasn't. Was he? It's clear that they've been through the worst together, sometimes with friends and sometimes just with each other, but did that mean she could ever see herself with him?

"No, you aren't," she wanted to try.

"Fiona," her name falls from his mouth like it was agonizing, like he wanted something from her, and when his hand trails up to grasp above her chest and he finally kisses her neck it's obvious that he does.

"R-Rhys," the cold metal of his arm sent chills through her body when it slips under her shirt and touches her stomach, "Rhys, that's cold."

"I'm sorry," he says while smiling against her skin, "That was a little far."

"But I liked it," she lets it slip out, only a second later does she realize that he's so close to her and if she moves an inch they'd be kissing. She wasn't sure what to do, but he was staring between her eyes and her lips and she couldn't take waiting. So, she pushes their mouths together. At first it felt forced, almost like she shouldn't have done it so fast. But his hands are entangled in her hair and she moves hers all over his back and she can't remember how she ended up sitting on his table with him between her legs. She doesn't want it to end.

It does, though, with him breathlessly resting his head against her shoulder, "I don't know if a table is the best place for this. I'm not even sure what this is," he's either laughing or catching his breath now.

"This is us, Rhys," it's the most cheesiest, romantic comedy cliche thing she could've said and somehow it made him smile and leave a trail of kisses up her neck and back to her lips.

"It sure does seem like us, doesn't it?" he pulls back to meet her eyes. She doesn't feel so bothered by it anymore, "Should we… stop… or…"

"Have I ever told you how nervous you sound when you talk like that?"

"I am nervous," it's his smile that makes her put her hand against his chest. It was the most sincere thing about him. She couldn't always trust what he was saying, but when he smiled, it meant something real.

"Me, too," it's a low whisper, so quiet she didn't know if he even heard it. She undoes the button in his shirt and the way his lips hang open was priceless, "We can stop at any time."

His hand grabs at her thigh giving her the answer she needs. So, she undoes the next button and the next until she's touching and staring at his skin. Skin that's warm, hot actually. Something made her want to scream out, but she didn't. Now wasn't the time, especially since he's undoing the buttons of her own shirt. He's much faster than she was, definitely more eager. And when they're all undone, he surprises her by removing her hat.

"I think you look amazing without it. You also look good with it on," the cocky grin he has, she loves it.

"Soak it in. It'll be rare to see me without it."

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, kisses the edge of her lips, and moves his hand to her shoulders to slip the shirt down. She wouldn't admit to feeling anxious by it. Not now when his eyes seem to turn hazy and half-lidded just by staring at her, "You know you're gorgeous, right?"

Even she begins to feel hazy. Her head is pounding and her mouth suddenly feels too dry for her to speak. She didn't need to when he picks her up, her legs immediately wrapping around waist, and he couldn't get to his bedroom fast enough. Momentarily, she looks around the room. Just what she expected from him. Yet another place she grew fond to. He didn't let her examine long before he was pushing her back against his mattress.

It doesn't take long for every remaining piece of clothing to fall to his floor and it was twice as quick for him to pull her on top of his lap, right where she felt she belonged.

"Still sure you want to do this?" he asks between kisses. He touches as much of her as he can. Her back, her chest, her stomach, and even slips lower. She could feel every crease of his fingertips. She bites down on her lip, but the moan still falls out.

"Yes."

He shifts under her, with one hand glued to her lower back, and she'll always remember the moment he plunges into her and the deep groan that followed after and how much she wanted to move, but he kept her still while he whispered how damn lucky he was to have her. She almost wanted to cry. That's when he decided to thrust into her and that's when she couldn't hold back anymore. She moved, slowly at first, and she enjoyed seeing how frustrated he was. She'd speed up, he'd grip her tighter. It wasn't enough, so he pushed her back to his bed, driving himself into her, she couldn't keep count of how many times she said his name.

"Fi- Fiona," he breathes and each thrust felt faster than the last and she wanted to remember how perfect he felt with her. He makes sure that she's keeping eye contact. He makes sure by keeping his hand on the back of her head because he wanted her to remember that this was all for them, nothing could take this away. How could she ever forget?


End file.
